


Ten-Cent Chef

by Lafeae



Series: Domestic Fluff Fics [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots Arguing because they can, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae
Summary: The kitchen’s a mess, Joey’s cooking skill is questionable, and Kaiba’s very, very bad at taking a hint.
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto
Series: Domestic Fluff Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693936
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Ten-Cent Chef

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff the Third!

A pot on the stove was boiling over. Something smoked and sizzled in the pan beside it. Vapid pop music blasted loud enough to shake the windows. And Joey danced—flailed, really, because what Kaiba was witnessing was anything but dancing—around the kitchen island while working on...something. 

“Just tell me already!” Kaiba demanded, his frustration mounting. 

“None ya!” 

“It’s my kitchen! You will tell me what you’re doing in _my_ kitchen!” Screaming wasn’t making him cool down any sooner. 

The kitchen was a mess. Scraps were everywhere. Flour dusted along the marble and peelings on the floor beside the garbage can. A million different bottles and spices lined up like a chorus line from edge to edge of the island. And Joey danced around them like a savant, picking and choosing what he needed, inherently understanding his laboratory of madness. 

All while P!nk was telling him what he could do with his hand. 

By a stroke of luck, Kaiba grabbed Joey by the arm on his 32nd time around the island. “Hey, lemme go! It’s gonna burn!” 

“What?” 

“It’s gonna burn!” 

“What’s going to burn, goddammit!” 

Joey stuck out his tongue and wriggled away. Not that Kaiba held him tight, but he really should have. And maybe punched his boyfriend in the face. Instead, he busied himself cleaning up. Not his job—he should have made Joey do it, but the mess was making his skin crawl. He couldn’t even fathom how bad the stove top would look after this. 

In the middle of his clean up, Joey took him by the hand and spun him, like they had suddenly begun to waltz, only to be left in the cold while the blond moved back to the stove and dumped the boiling pot into an awaiting colander. Kaiba crept in close. Nothing looked even close to edible. He guessed there were noodles involved and something that looked like sirloin in the frying pan. “Are you making ramen?”

“What?” Joey shouted, snickering. 

“You heard me!” 

“Can’t hear ya!” 

Joey reached over and turned the dial up on the sound system. If that was possible. Which prompted Kaiba to storm over and slam his hand on the pause button, though he was surprised at how loud his heart raced when he did. The energy in the room died, and there was only the simmer of the frying pan, the burble of some unknown sauce on the back burner. 

And Joey in his face with a wooden spoon, displaying said sauce. 

“You’re such a hardass, ya know that?” Joey said. “Try this.” 

“I asked you a simple question. Answer it.” The wooden spoon was jabbed at him, and he lapped from the edge. Tangy, spicy, a little eclectic in a way he couldn’t place. “Well, it’s not ramen.” 

“S’good right?” 

“Joseph, what the hell is it?” 

Joey reached for the sound system, stopped short by Kaiba. It became a battle of the fingers. Jabbed back and forth, jabbing each other until there were little red crescents in their skin. 

“Turn my music back on, dammit!” Joey stirred the sauce before dumping the sirloin into it. “Why do ya wanna know so bad, anyways?” 

“Because.” 

Joey clicked his tongue. “‘Because’ isn’t an answer.” 

“Because it’s my kitchen.” 

“Ain’t it my kitchen, too?” Joey crossed his arms and flung sauce onto the floor. “Even a little? It ain’t like I’ve even seen you use it. Someone outta slave over a hot stove, an’ since I’m the trophy boyfriend—,” 

“Oh please.” 

“—I figure I outta break out Grandma’s old recipes an’ do the cookin’. So if ya don’t mind, turn the music back on, huh?” 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kaiba sighed and reached over and hit play. He made sure to dial down the volume. “You know this is only because I don’t hate you, right?” Kaiba said. 

“Coulda fooled me.” 

“Clearly you hate the floor,” he said, tiptoeing around the sauce splatter.

“It is kinda dull,” Joey said, snapping the burner dials off. His hips gyrated and jutted as he bobbed about, putting the finishing touches on the mystery dish. But he paused. “Why don’t ya, like, get some wine or somethin’.” 

“You don’t like wine.” 

Joey’s head lulled against his shoulder. “Jus’ get outta the kitchen for five seconds, huh?” 

“Why are you so hellbent on me not knowing what this is?” 

“Because it’s s’pose to be a surprise, smartass,” Joey replied. “An’ you call me stupid sometimes, yeesh, can’t even get a hint that I’m tryin’ to be romantic...”he muttered, mostly to himself. “So can ya jus’ go get the wine, Mr. Anti-fun?” 

Rolling his eyes, Kaiba pushed off the island and went to the cellar, the music dying as he descended. He knew he had made Joey mad. When he pouted, a little line formed between his brows. Maybe he had gone too far, but it was his kitchen. He wanted to know, even if it didn’t matter. It was the principle of knowing, and yet the simple gesture flew over his head. Joey hadn’t been exactly clear, though. 

Picking out a bottle of sweet red, Kaiba went back upstairs and began, “You know, if you weren’t so terrible at giving signals you’d....” 

Soft string music stopped him. The lights in the kitchen were off, and a warm glow led him towards the dining room. The table was set for two. Joey finished lighting the sticks on an old candelabra, smiling dumbly as he shook out the match. 

Swallowing thickly, Kaiba clutched the bottle to his chest and squeezed the neck. This was ridiculous. It was too much, too sappy, too not them. And yet he was looking at it and trying to figure out what he was missing. Some anniversary? A birthday? It wasn’t his birthday, was it? 

No. No, it wasn’t. 

Joey pried the bottle from him. “C’mon, ‘fore the food gets cold.” And he led Kaiba to the table, pulling out the chair before popping the wine bottle open. 

“Why?” 

“‘Cause I don’t know how it tastes hot, so I definitely don’t wanna test it cold,” Joey snickered. 

Kaiba didn’t know if Joey had tactfully avoided the question for levity’s sake, or if he was being earnest. Either way, pestering at the why seemed pointless. It was spontaneity for spontaneity’s sake. He had probably gotten it from one of Mai’s magazines or the stupid telenovela he and and Mokuba watched. The answer wouldn’t satiate Kaiba, especially if it got mushy and melodramatically romantic. So he sat, and before he could pick up his fork, Joey leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

Kaiba’s ears sizzled. He picked up his wine glass and clinked it against Joey’s. He reciprocated. “You’re lucky I love you, Joseph.” 

Joey snorted. “Love ya too, ya asshole,” he said, sipping the wine and cringing. A smile appeared afterwards, and it tumbled into an infectious chuckle that Kaiba struggled to swallow while he ate. They spent the entirety of the meal wordless and laughing. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what Joey’s cooking, have at it yourself. Yes, he is 100% listening to Pink while cooking. 
> 
> This was random and I wanted something with food. So I hope you enjoyed this! Tell me what you think!


End file.
